


you're alright love

by orphan_account



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Anxiety, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Larry Stylinson Is Real, M/M, One Shot, Panic Attacks, Quiet Harry, Social Anxiety, larry - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-16
Updated: 2017-06-16
Packaged: 2018-11-14 22:16:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,963
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11217345
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Harry Styles has imprisoned himself. In his own mind. He doesn't know when it happened but he let anxiety take over, giving it full power, making him discard the notes of the pretty boy next to him.Pretty boy in question, Louis Tomlinson has taken it upon himself to rid him of the monster controlling him.





	you're alright love

First Day

 

Harry

 

In, and out. In, and out. 

The words repeat in my head over and over again, never stopping, twirling in that brain of mine, controlling my breathing, never letting go of the semi comforting thought. It's all that can keep me going right now, keep me from letting any kind of emotion out. The words keep circling, controlling the way I walk, the way I drag my eyes over everybody, never staring too long. I can do this, don't let anything out, first impressions are everything.

I thought starting college would've been easier than this, after years of having to deal with this stupid anxiety, but it just got harder. I blame all of this worry and panic on myself, and that's what makes everything worse. The way I am, it isn't anybody's fault but mine. 

I keep my eyes level, trying not to think about people who could potentially be looking at me right now. I adjust the strap of my bag, fixing everything I can, making everything better so that the imaginary stares will stop. 

This isn't fair. I think stubbornly. Why am I not like all these other people, these people who can walk up to anyone and talk, be themselves without going mute, laugh and make people laugh, who don't have to roll a sentence ten times in their heads before actually saying it out loud. I thought at one point I would change, I never did and so I kept going, this empty version of me, screaming at myself nearly every night, torn down by the idea that no one would ever look past my inability to be myself, past my anxiety. It isn't me. I'm not shy, I'm not quiet, I just need a chance to prove that.

Those days are gone though, of hoping someone, anyone, would do the work for me. Even if there was someone I wouldn't even try, I've given up, given in to the anxiety, letting it control me. There's no more screaming at myself, now my nights are spent awake until 6am, empty. I'm ok, I'm good, if good is an internalized sense of desperation and existentialism. There's no more hoping now, I just have to go through these years of college alone, the quiet kid who everyone thinks is weird. I don't have to be himself, because I can't, but I can exist. And that's what I, Harry Styles do. Exist. 

So I walk until I find the classroom I was looking for, the endless breathing pattern repeating itself and lean on the wall, cutting out everyone else, cutting out the laughs and people who are just being themselves. Disgusting. 

 

**

 

Second Day

 

Louis

 

I run through the now empty halls of the giant prison like building, dragging my hand along the wall on my right as I go, nearly losing my bag in the process and watch the room numbers flash beside me. Of course I'm late on my first day. I don't normally care, there's a high chance I'll be skipping this class anyway, but I can at least make the effort to make a good impression. But of course I had to get myself noticed.

I stop short when I arrive in front of the right door and take a minute to catch my breath. Without hesitation I knock on the door, hearing a voice on the other side mumbling something and walk in, head held high, not an ounce of me caring that my t-shirt is not in place and showing a good portion of skin. 

I realize all eyes are on me and I cough awkwardly, a few people laughing silently. It's not like they're strangers to my bad habits, I already know quite a lot of these people. I collect myself and walk through the rows, highfiving a few of my friends as I go by. Liam rolls his eyes at me and I flash him a toothy smile, continuing on my quest to sit as far back as possible. I go all the way back, except when I turn my head expecting an empty seat, that's not quite what I get. Instead sitting there with his head down and hair hiding half of his face is a boy, who looks utterly consumed by the marks on the table, tracing them with long slender fingers.

I shrug and walk over, sitting down next to him, frowning when he doesn't even acknowledge my existence. Well this is new. I settle down and make a point of noisily taking my things out of my bag, dropping everything on my table as recklessly as possible. Finally, after having meticulously moved around all of my pens and papers, and earning an annoyed glare from the teacher, the boy looks up, frowning slightly. Finally. There were only so many positions I could put my stuff in. 

The boy in question looks like art. Green eyes, soft skin tone, cheeks that I'd love to pinch and hair that looks like it belongs to a disney prince. Okay so the guy is quite good looking, I admit it. And there's this aura around him, of charm and comfort clashing with the way his eyes are coldly looking through me. 

I realize I've been staring for far too long and should probably emote in some kind of way so I offer him the best smile I have. Green Eyes, almost like an automatic reflex, curls his lips in a sort of cold, robotic smile. Even though it looks fake I admire the way his face entirely changes, and I nearly faint when a shy dimple pops out. He is so pretty. But something's off, I know it and I sense that he knows it too. Instead of going into stupid theories about this guy I open my mouth, ready to introduce myself but instead I'm cut short when he turns away and his arm knocks over his pencil case, the contents spilling on the floor.

“Oops!” he lets out and I take note of how ridiculously deep his voice is.

“Hi.” I say dumbly and he looks at me frowning slightly, a confused look on his face because really who says that? He clears his throat and starts rapidly picking up his dejected items, as I feel myself too mesmerized to even react. I shake myself out of it and start stuffing everything back in his pencil case, dragging my eyes off of the boy. When we've finished with out little clean up, earning another eye roll from the teacher, I sit up straight, trying to compose myself.

I tear the corner off of a piece of paper I had lying around and write “I'm Louis” on it, making sure to add a smiley face next to it before slipping it to Curly who I see frown from the corner of my eye. There's still no evident reaction on his face, making me feel a little deflated and I wonder if he's actually going to answer when I see the piece of paper coming into my view again.

Good for you 

Is written on the other side of the paper and somehow it makes me laugh inside. Ok so information number one : he is very sassy.

That was rude 

I write back, making sure to slip it to him when the teacher is not looking, really only for the teacher's sake. Again no apparent reaction on his face but when I read his answer as he slips it back to me I nearly laugh out loud.

Your face is rude

I let out a sound between a strangled laugh and a snort, really not expecting this.

Tell me your name or you're going to endure terrible and corny nicknames each time I talk to you.

I write confidently. My confidence dies down when I don't even see the beginning of a smile on his face. And it goes completely down the drain when I read his reply.

Then let's not talk.

I feel my whole demeanor change, slumping down slightly and look over at him; but there's no trace of regret or joking across his features. Tough crowd then. Curly is watching the teacher, listening but not actually writing down anything she's saying. I let my eyes travel away from him and struggle to find something to reply to the harsh words. I smile slightly at myself when I find the perfect answer and straighten up slightly.

I never said WE would talk. I said I would talk to you.

This time the words earn me an eye roll. Nothing else but at least it's a reaction. 

Knock yourself out 

I read and smile to myself. To anyone else this would absolutely not seem like progress. But honestly, at some point I'm bound to get something out of the boy, even if it's not necessarily a good reaction. 

 

**

 

Harry

 

Honestly I felt a bit bad when I answered so rudely but I couldn't help it. Somewhere inside me there was the real me itching to get out, have fun and laugh at anything Louis says but he'd been shut up a while ago by the monster that anxiety is. Do people have it this bad? To the point where it's taken over? I didn't use to be like this, before it was the opposite, me trying to fight off anxiety and keep it caged up, now it's me who's trapped. I used to be loud, or louder than now anyway; I used to laugh and smile at people on the street, not even faltering when I got a glare. No point trying to go back though. 

I have to admit this Louis guy is stubborn. For the rest of the lesson I receive little notes, one after the other, I read all of them of course, never answering, never reacting in any kind of way. The trapped me laughs at his terrible puns though and I feel him pushing against the bars of the cage. No way that's going to happen. But with each passing paper it feels like he's banging against the walls, each word giving him strength I didn't know he had. By the end of the lesson, there's several little pieces of papers lying on my table, a smiling Louis and a cage getting weaker by the minute. 

I don't notice how feathery his hair is, I don't notice the perfection of his features and I certainly don't notice just how much he looks like a work of art.

But of course as he always does the monster that is anxiety rears its giant head and makes it all go away, rebuilds the cage as best he can and completely takes over again. The fight is over before it even starts. My trapped self is banging against the walls again, while I stand up when the teacher allows us to leave. He's never been this violent before, maybe he always was and for once I'm actually paying attention to him. Or to me I suppose. It's getting too confusing all of this. Too many monsters, too many cages.

Before I can look back to the blue eyed boy, because everything inside me is fighting to, I pack everything up and leave in a hurry, not even caring when I feel my sweater slipping off my backpack where I'd put it. This room is getting too small for me, I need to get out. 

Before the breathing pattern I'd put in place goes mad I break out into the open and suck in a deep breath, glad to finally be away from that room and those notes and Louis. Get yourself together Styles. I think angrily to myself. I think I hear someone calling out to me, but I ignore it and stand straight, adjust my clothes and walk away from it all, scared that I might have more classes with the boy. It shouldn't be a scary thought really but somehow it got twisted into a terrifying prospect. But, as long as I keep this going, there'll be a day when Louis will just give up, exactly like I did and I'll finally be able to keep going like I did before. 

Determined not to think about it anymore than I have to, because that would give some kind of importance to the whole situation, I start walking faster to my street and turn when I get there, relieved by the prospect of being alone after just one interaction that wasn't even two sided. 

When I finally unlock the door to my flat, I throw everything on the ground, bag, coat and shoes, making sure to drop my keys at the usual place, putting the kettle on as I walk by it. This place feels like home now, it certainly didn't right when I moved in, there was always a sense of emptiness and something didn't feel quite right. Now though, this place is my sanctuary, posters hanging on every wall, too many pillows on the bed, and a feeling of safety anytime I come in. 

I open the window, unfazed by the cold air of September and take a sip of my obligatory end of school tea. Before I can completely relax every muscle in my body though, my phone rings, and I take it out of my back pocket with an annoyed huff. The screen displays the name “Zayn” and I roll my eyes before taking the call, knowing exactly what this is about and already frustrated with the conversation I haven't even had yet.

“Hey mate I-”

“No.” I say in a monotone voice and I hear him groan at the end of the line.

“I haven't even said anything yet! Hear me out this time.” He says and I hear the annoyance in his voice.

“Fine. Go ahead and tell me how I should totally come to this party you're having tonight. Tell me how 'off the hook' it's gonna be and then listen to me say no like I ALWAYS do.” I say, feeling like I've said this too many times already.

“This is different though! It's this thing the school organized where we all go to this bar and just hang out and get to know people, it's gonna be fun I swear.” he says, a strong sense of conviction in his voice.

“That sounds like the first day of primary school but with alcohol. Even worse than your parties, did you really expect me to say yes?”

“Ok listen, I won't know anyone there and neither will you, we'll just go there and keep to ourselves alright?” He answers, resignation clear in his voice. 

I pause for a second, thinking about it. Zayn isn't the kind of person to randomly go up to talk to people he doesn't know so he won't be ditching me and it does sound nice to just hang out with my best friend for a while.

“How many people?” I ask warily.

“I don't know but not a lot I swear!” I can hear the excitement in his voice. “So you're coming yeah? Yeah you are, you can't back out now or I'll murder you, clear? It's tomorrow night by the way, wear something nice and don't embarrass yourself. This is gonna be so much fun!” 

I roll my eyes and hang up, not even bothering with a goodbye. Why did I agree to this? Since when do I make these kind of terrible decisions? I already feel the panic rising at the prospect of tomorrow night but I quickly force it down, clear my mind and ignore the feeling of dread slowly creeping up inside me. It's not just that though, I might have classes with Louis tomorrow, and that thought is even worse really. I finish my tea, my hands shaking from stress and cold, and again put all those anxiety inducing thoughts out of my mind, focusing on the good part. That college doesn't last forever. 

 

**

 

Third Day

 

Harry

 

My head feels heavier than it ever has as I lean it on my hand, starting to feel a cramp coming on. My are are drooping and I feel like my arm is going to collapse any second. Before I actually slump on my table though, I shake myself out of my sleep deprivation induced state and force my eyes wide open, the words of the teacher blurring together. Fortunately Louis isn't in this class, a thought that yesterday night (well more like morning) nearly gave me a panic attack. I spent the whole night scared, and a little bit of me was excited too, making me even more terrified. The thoughts never stopped. Why don't you drop this whole cold facade? It would be easier. Just talk to him. You could become friends. But why bother? Because you want to be happy? Why though? I never really have been before. And the endless circle never stopped, it kept me up all night, and I didn't get one minute of sleep. 

Before I can get sucked into those thoughts again, the bell rings and the teacher lets us leave, even though half the class had already packed up their things, me included. I get up and nearly fall over from the sudden movement, my head spinning as I scramble to get myself together. Sleep deprivation does nothing good for me. There's something freeing about it though, I'm neither awake nor asleep, it feels like I'm dead. The fact that I feel like being dead is nice makes panic rise again. This is ridiculous. I think while walking down the hallway, as always self conscious about all the people walking and waiting outside the doors, like they're some sort of demons waiting to pounce on me at any sign of weakness. 

I let my gaze fall to the floor as I walk faster, suddenly aware of how many people are in the hallway. I don't deal well with crowds, especially when I'm alone. I feel like they're all looking at me, talking about me and everything closes in. Oh no Styles. This is SO not the moment for a panic attack. I struggle to calm my erratic breathing, completely in disbelief at how pathetic this really is. 

As soon as I walk out of the building, I take in an enormous gulp of air like I've just been drowning and I finally got my head out of the water. Except I haven't, I plunge right back in. Because in front of the building and all around me is some sort of reunion going on. Students with fliers running around talking to anyone they see, others just standing there talking to one another and a great big banner stretching along the side of the building that I can't make out because the words are all mushed together thanks to the rain.

I feel myself struggling to catch my breath, watching everyone smiling and interacting, making me bitter about how this is making me feel, the injustice of it all weighing on me. Every breath I take catches in my throat and for some reason I can't move, I can't run away, my knees are weak and begging to just give away.

And then by far the most anxiety inducing thing happens. Suddenly out of nowhere, Louis is standing in front of me, a concerned look on his face. Why would he be concerned? I've been nothing but a jerk to him. I can't think straight as he places a hand on my shoulder and says something that I think is :

“Are you okay there?” And of course Louis is the kind of person to care about someone like me. The boy is crazy.

I struggle to catch my breath again and it's all getting too much, I can't even speak and I can feel tears prickling my eyes. Louis's eyes widen and suddenly I'm being pulled away by the crowd from a gentle and weirdly small hand gripping my arm.

When we're finally out in the open, I nearly fall over, but I'm quickly steadied by Louis and calm my breath bit by bit, closing my eyes and finally getting back a normal breathing pattern and heartbeat.

After what feels like hours, I realize Louis is still there, and I open my eyes, slightly looking down at him because honestly he is so small.

“I don't like crowds” I blurt out and want to hit myself because of the words.

“Yeah I gathered. Are you feeling okay, do you want me to call someone?” 

“I don't have a heart disease Louis” I say with an eye roll “I'm just pathetic” I say in a murmur and as soon as the words leave my mouth I feel like choking myself to death because seriously, who says that?

“There's nothing pathetic about that” Blue eyes says says in his perfect accent and perfect, concerned voice. Since when are people this understanding and downright perfect? I mentally scold myself for the thought. I feel like I need to leave before I reveal any more of my underlying mental issues, so I look at him for a split second before blurting out in a rushed way :

“I have to go.” 

Before he gets a chance to answer though, I walk away, nearly running really, and don't look back, although I hear him calling something out, and I think I hear the word “name” in his sentence. 

The entire way home I feel like screaming out my frustration out loud, because really out of everyone that could've been there, it had to be Louis didn't it? And I find myself questioning if that really was a bad thing.

 

Louis

 

There's nothing I can do but stare after Curly when he runs off, stumbling slightly. I'm left in shock, holding his sweater that he didn't notice I was holding. My thoughts are racing, I want to run after him but I know how bad an idea that is. He doesn't need me to make it worse right now. At first I thought the guy was shy, but it goes deeper than that and I'm pretty sure what he nearly experienced right then was a panic attack. I shake myself out of my trance, realizing that he's left my line of vision and slowly get out a cigarette out of the new pack I just bought, lighting it and sitting on the curb. 

I can't stop thinking about what just happened, can't help feeling powerless. I must be a terrible source of anxiety for the tall green eyed boy and that thought makes me want to puke. I want to help him, I almost feel like I need to help him at this point. Although if he could hear my thoughts right now, he would probably deny that he needed any kind of help. There's something about him though, it's not pity I'm feeling, it's curiosity mixed with some of kind of desire to get to know him. Before I can devise a plan on how to do that though, someone stops right in front of me.

I look up and sure enough, there stands a blond, grinning boy, looking at me excitedly.

“Oh my God Niall!!” I nearly yell and jump up, the two of us coming together for a hug, trying to be careful not to light up his shirt with my cigarette.

“What the hell are you doing here mate? I thought you were still in New York!” I say, holding on to his shoulders when we break apart.

“I came back! Honestly NY was great and everything but hey, there's no greater city than the one Louis Tomlinson is in.” He exclaims in his Irish accent.

“Wait so you're staying here now?” I say, still holding myself back a bit. “Please tell me you're not going back, a year here without you was hell.” 

“I know, I know, you just can't live without me can you.” He looks at me, and I stare back at him expectantly. “Of course I'm staying! I just enrolled, looks like it's gonna be you and me again!”

I nearly squeal and pull him in a hug again, letting go finally and let out a sigh of relief. 

“You still have place for me in our flat?” He asks with a grin on his face.

“Of course you idiot, I would never find a better roommate than you. Although you know, the finalists were pretty good, they were no Niall though.”

He rolls his eyes at that.

“Okay, you're going to have to tell me all about your boring, stupid, Louisless gap year now, and you're not getting out of it. Come on let's go home.”

His smile widens impossibly at that, but before we can start on our way to the bus stop, we're interrupted again by Liam, who walks by and then proceeds to freak out over the fact that Niall is in fact back in the country.

It takes us all around 15 minutes to recuperate from the surprise Irish man in front of us but finally, we're left just the two of us, but not before Liam stops us again.

“By the way, you're coming to this integration thing tonight right?” 

Niall and I look at each other in confusion.

“I'll text you the details but basically tonight we're all invited to this bar to hang out and get to know people, like all of us that are following this course. I better see you there, we haven't had the chance to get a beer together yet.” 

He doesn't leave us any time to answer before he walks off, leaving us to of course, agree on a nice night out. Besides, there's that very, very insanely small chance that maybe, just maybe Harry will be there. And then I think about the amount of people who are going to show up and I completely cross the possibility out, focusing on Niall who started rambling on about weird Americans he'd encountered in New York.

 

**

 

“God dammit Louis we're going to a bar not the fricking opera!” I hear Niall shout at me through the door.

“I'm just trying to look good! First impressions matter Nialler.” I shout back, pulling down my t shirt for the 100th time. I hear the door open and the blond peaks through.

“Louis you look fine. It's not like you have anyone to impress.” 

I look down in embarrassment at that, seeing his eyes widen.

“Oh my God you've seen someone haven't you! You should've told me, I haven't had time to get in the wingman mindset right now” 

“Niall I assure you I don't need a wingman. And no there's no one!”

I say weakly, but even I can hear the lie in my voice.

“Louis you have to tell me! Okay okay, guy or girl?” 

“Guy” I blurt out and let out a string of curses when I realize I'm in way too deep now. 

“Name?” Niall states, like he's conducting an interview.

“I... Don't know.” 

“You don't know.” He answers in disbelief. “Wow, first person you're interested in in years and you don't know his name? Give me something to work with here! It's not li-”

“He wouldn't tell me! It's hardly my fault” 

He rolls his eyes and I push past him, coming out of the bathroom and into the space that serves as our living room. 

“He hates me anyway.” I state, matter-of-factly. 

“Louis no one has ever hated you in your entire life and you've just met this guy.”

He keeps on rambling about how lovable I am while we walk to the bus stop and get on the first one that arrives.

“...in love with you in a matter of days and-”

“Niall, shut up would you? You're going to jinx it.”

Again he rolls his eyes and puts a hand on my shoulder, steadying himself with the other when the bus takes a particularly sharp turn.

“Ok fine. But if you keep being so pessimistic, you're going to jinx it. You be your usual charming flirty self and he'll fall right in your arms.”

“Honestly, why are you making such a big deal out of this? It's not like I'm in love with him or anything, he's literally only said a couple words to me. And not in a good context” 

I say grumpily as we get off the right stop and start walking towards the doors of the bar. When we get there we realize just how many people showed up. The outside tables are already flooded,10 people sitting at tables of 4 and others just standing up, beer in one hand and cigarette in the other. 

I spin to face Niall, who's looking at me with a smile.

“He's not going to be here. And if by the smallest chance he is, don't embarrass me.” 

I say as I push open the doors.

“I would never”

I hear him answer and I snort. When I walk in, the place is absolutely cramped, discarded beer glasses on every surface, chairs left in the middle of the room and bartenders swirling in every direction. I stand on my tiptoes to search for Liam who thankfully got here earlier and spot him at the other end, making my way to him and looking everywhere, fully knowing that Curly will not be here.

Except that's when I spot him, and for some reason my heart nearly stops for a second. He's lying face up and knees bent, his head resting on the lap of a guy I don't know, who's running his hand through his curls. Both are them are chatting, laughing at some moments, Green Eyes looking utterly comfortable, making me feel weird, like I'm seeing him in a light that I'm not supposed to. The other guy looks like a god, I admit reluctantly and for some reason I feel a flare of jealousy. Because this guy whoever he is, gets to witness the real Curly. I should've known really. 

I continue on my tracks, determined not to let this get to me and we finally join Liam. I feel sick when I realize we have a perfect view on Curly and this guy who, I assume is his boyfriend. I tell myself this to not let my hopes up, even though it's completely rational and possible that they're just close friends. 

I hear Niall and Liam start to chat but my heart isn't in it and I block them out, doing everything in my power to not let this ruin my night. I find myself looking back at them though and they're still in that position, Curly laughing now at something the other guy told him. There's something so strange about seeing him so... himself. I'm jerked out of my thoughts by Liam all of a sudden, reminding me that they aren't the two only people in this bar.

“Who are you staring at so intensely.”

“Oh my God is that him?” I hear Niall say and I throw him a murder glance.

“Who's him...? I really don't th- wait that's Zayn over there I know that guy!”

“Woah woah wait who's Zayn?” I ask, completely confused by this whole thing.

“The one that looks like a God, who right now is busy being a pillow for Harry. I met him in...”

I tune out the rest of Liam's rant and digest the information. Harry, that's his name. It suits him. And I really want to find out how it feels to call him that. 

“Are they together?” I blurt out, interrupting Liam who's now going on about some class he has with the Zayn guy.

“What? Oh no, they're just best friends. Hey we should go say hi!”

“What? No no I don't think that's a-”

I don't get very far because of course Liam is already stood up and is pulling me with him, not giving me any time to absorb any of the information I was just given. Ok so, Curly is actually called Harry, the other one is Zayn and they are not in a relationship. 

Before I can let that information truly sink in though, I'm already being “dragged” to their table by Liam, Nial trailing behind me with a much too cheeky grin. No no no no nononono this is honestly the worst idea anyone has ever had in the history of ideas. I keep protesting, calling Liam every name in the book until we reach their table and I'm cut short when the boys look up.

“...goddamn whore I swear you-” 

I shut my mouth up, completely horrified that both of them just heard that and I can't quite meet Harry's gaze, instead focusing on Zayn who's trying his very best not to laugh.

“Excuse my friend, he's from Doncaster he has no idea what he's doing.”

I hear Liam say and I very nearly pout childishly at that, hitting him weakly, and finally allowing myself to glance at Harry who has now sat up and is staring straight back at me. His piercing gaze takes me aback all of a sudden, feeling like he's looking straight through me like no one ever has. There's the very faint trace of a smile on his lips while he's looking at me shyly through his lashes. I cough slightly, shifting on my feet, feeling very self conscious suddenly.

“Sit down lads, let's at least try to make it look like we came here to be social” 

Zayn says. We all obey, Liam sitting face to Zayn and Niall almost jumping to claim the second chair. I look at him confused, even more by the sly smile on his face until I realize there are no other chairs. Meaning the only other spot is next to Harry. Of course. 

I move to sit down but before I do, I lean down close to Niall and whisper : 

“I hate you” 

To which he only smiles innocently, batting his eyelashes at me. I sit down next to Harry and all of a sudden, out of the blue, my heart starts beating faster. I try to hate it, I really do but as much as I want to, it's honestly the best feeling in the world. 

I gather up the strength to talk to the ridiculously good looking man sitting next to me, so close that our knees are touching, and finally after could only be a few seconds but what felt like hours, I turn to him, clearing my throat.

“You feeling better now? I kind of wanted to run after you back there but that would've just been weird.” 

Harry's face turns into a confused frown until realization hits him and it's not confusion he's feeling anymore. Now he just looks embarrassed. I feel like backtracking, ignoring that I just asked that and tell a random fact about sloths or something but instead, something completely different comes out of my mouth.

“I used to have loads of panic attacks. All the damn time actually. It was ridiculous really, well not really because who's to say which emotions are ridiculous and which aren't? I'm sorry, this isn't really helping is it? I'm just trying to say that's it's not pathetic and I know how it feels.”

There's no answer for a while and again, I think about reverting to the topic of sloths but instead I turn to look at him and there's an expression of pure surprise on his face. I stay there in shock for a few seconds because surprise is the last reaction I thought I was going to get out of the boy. It feels like we stare at each other forever, not even hearing Liam, Zayn and Niall go on about football, until finally a small smile breaks out on Harry's face.

“It just feels like drowning right?” I hear him say, and it's a beautiful sound, hearing him talk without trying desperately to catch his breath at the same time. I process his words so slowly that I feel like I'm hearing the gears turn in my brain. It's not that I don't understand, it's just that I know that I shouldn't.

“Exactly” I breath out finally.

For the rest of the night, there's nothing. No interactions, no talking between us but somehow it's alright. This is fine, I'm making progress. Bit by bit, word by word, even look by look because as I've noticed Harry doesn't seem to be too fond of eye contact. 

But still, each time he looks at me for even a split second, which I came to realize he did quite often for the rest of the night, something inside me lights up. And I know I'm in way too deep.

 

**

 

Harry

 

Day after

 

I find myself staring at the door when I sit down for my second class of the day, uncharacteristically early for once. A mixture of dread and worry churns my stomach and I can't quite sit still, hoping each time someone comes in that it's not Louis. 

Just when I'm about to let relief and repressed disappointment take over when he doesn't walk in, all my senses are jerked awake by the blue eyed boy who comes rushing in like a whirlwind, looking like a damn model. I mean honestly it should be illegal to look like that, it's seriously not fair on the rest of humanity. Everytime he walks in any room, his presence is just so... there. I manage to tear my gaze away from him and look back down to my textbook.

I nearly jump out of my own skin when he sits down next to me and this time I shoot him a confused look because honestly what is this guy's deal? I couldn't have been more discouraging and rude the past days. I let out an inaudible sigh and start doodling on the corner of my page, vaguely hearing the teacher talk about some project the school has going on. I think for the 100th time of yesterday night. I don't know what to feel about what happened, about what I said to Louis, what he said to me and how he looked at me everytime he thought I wasn't looking. I refrain myself from turning to look at him, busying myself with thinking about anything other than the way our knees were touching from sitting next to each other.  
I'm suddenly jolted out of my thoughts when (of course) Louis passes me a note that I know I'm not going to answer to. However the words written on the paper make me feel some kind of way that I don't know how to describe.

Hey green eyes :)

So I guess we're continuing the long string of terrible nicknames then. Great, can't wait. I think with an eye roll. He knows my name now, why is this still going on?

Or do you prefer “kind of green but not really because there's some yellow in there too” eyes? 

That one nearly makes me smile but I don't give in and instead keep my attention focused on the teacher, although for some reason I can't concentrate on anything she's saying. 

Okay fine, much too complicated. 

After that one, the small notes keep coming and I have to make a physical effort to keep my face completely emotionless. But after an endless string of terrible puns, this happens :

What did the flag say to the other flag?

I'll just imagine you said “i don't know” (I bet you have the prettiest voice)

Is he flirting with me now, is this really happening? This boy has no chill whatsoever. 

Nothing he just waved.

And no matter what, I can't stop the sudden but short laugh that leaves my mouth and I quickly clamp a hand over my mouth, frustrated by myself like never before. I don't turn to see his reaction, because honestly that joke did NOT deserve a laugh but I can feel his eyes bore into the side of my face and no matter how much I fight it, I can't help the steady blush creeping up my face. Is this really all it took? Some flirting and terrible jokes and boom, just like that I'm the old Harry again, laughing and smiling and much too emotional for my own good? The last thought shuts me down again, harder than before and suddenly all traces of happiness is gone from my face. 

You're not going to get under my skin Louis, not today and not ever.

 

**

 

Louis

 

I nearly laugh out loud at my own joke but decide that would be really lame before sliding it over to Harry. I don't expect anything from it, the past 10 papers haven't triggered any kind of emotion, but still I study his face as he reads it and all of a sudden something magical happens.

His face breaks out into the most genuine and beautiful laugh I've ever heard. The corners of his mouth go shooting upwards and the sound is cut short when his hand flies to cover his mouth. I have to fight the urge to gently slap it away because honestly never before have I seen someone's face change so radically in a matter of seconds. And there's something so mysterious about it, like he's hiding in himself, and I can't for the life of me figure out why. Before I can say anything though, Harry removes his hand from his mouth and all traces of that sunshine inducing smile is gone, leaving me frowning slightly. What is stopping him? I'm going to figure this boy out, no matter how long it takes.

**Author's Note:**

> Woooooow ok first Larry fanfic, kill me now this is terrible. 
> 
> Basically it's very cliché, there's a lot of buildup and probably too much intensity.
> 
> Anyways this'll be a 3 chapter one shot, chapter 2 will be up when I figure out how to write again since i've been on an infinite hiatus yAY.
> 
> It'll probably take a while cuz I'm working right now in fast food (by the way, in the place i work at you're not allowed to tuck your shirt in your trousers if you don't have a belt????)
> 
> Anyways I hope you enjoy this 
> 
> Stay golden <3


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